The ReAl ReveAl
by Marrilyn
Summary: My take on who should have been revealed as Charles and how it all should have gone.
1. Guys and Dolls

**I don't like the mid-season finale. There's nothing wrong if you do, but I don't. I like Vanessa, her acting was amazing and all, but the episode itself was disappointing and full of unforgivable plot holes. So I decided to write my own with a little less holes.**

* * *

They stared at the hologram in shock, wondering what was going on with Alison, why Jason and Mr. D looked more dead and alive, and, most important of all, how in the hell A or Charles or whatever the hell his name was could afford such otherworldly technology?

"We're family!" Alison shouted.

"Who is she talking to?" Spencer wondered, glaring at the screen in complete and utter wonder.

The camera shifted from Alison to a slim figure dressed in black from head to toe, the hologram quivering as the girls' frightened gasps filled the crowded room.

"Oh, my god!" Aria exclaimed. "Ali's with Charles."

The hooded figure straightened up, seemingly taking a deep, confident breath. Ever so slowly, he turned around, his beautiful hood-framed face now fully exposed, facing Alison, facing the girls whose eyes had gotten so wide as though they would explode out of their sockets at given any time.

"Don't be so dramatic, Ali," he said, the first half of the sentence uttered in an absolutely adorable and now so very creepy British accent, only for it to drop at the very middle, producing a disturbing, fear-inducing tune.

"Wren?!" Aria muttered. The word fell silent behind a shower of gasps coming from her friends. And Mona.

"They're not dead," Wren continued, his voice turning sinister every second, tempting the girl he'd called his sister, taunting her, torturing her. "Yet."

"How?" Spencer murmured under her breath, her doe-like eyes filling with tears. She'd kissed that man. Liked him. One time seriously considered letting herself love him.

It wasn't real. None of it was.

"I can't believe it," Hanna added, remembering the kiss. Oh, such a sweet kiss it was. She was vulnerable, missing a friend, dumped by her boyfriend, and he was there, being all nice and charming with that cute accent of his. And she let herself go for it, let herself taste him just that once, and it felt so good that for a moment she wished for it to last.

He'd helped her, in a way coddled her, offered support and friendship. He nurtured her wound, and she let him. She liked letting him take care of her, if only for just a moment.

A horrible realization dawned on her. He was probably the one who injured her in the first place.

"How could you do this? My friends trusted you," Alison said, horrified.

Spencer flinched at those words. For a while, she really did trust him. Now – not so much.

"What friends?" Wren countered. "Spencer?" He laughed. "Now that one's a catch. I gave her so many chances, took her back every time she let me, only for her to go back to that no-brain cop who can't even hold his gummy bears."

Now that hurt.

"Or Hanna? Sweet, little Hanna who went right back into the arms of that trailer trash hobo boy?"

Hanna frowned. Now that was rude. Caleb wasn't trailer trash. And he wasn't a hobo. Anymore.

Besides, Wren only helped patch up her leg. She'd hardly call that everything.

"I don't think so." He turned to the screen, his eyes, once warm and friendly, full of so much hate that it was sickening. Then, after a silent moment of plain stare, he sang: "Lord, help the mister who comes between me and my sister."

"Does he think we came between him and Ali?" Spencer spat, her sadness now turned into full blown anger. "Is that what this has all been about?"

"I don't think that's it," Mona replied. "At least not all of it. There has to be more."

"Shouldn't the cops be here right now?" Aria asked.

"They're not coming," Mona said. The girls looked at her and she sighed, exasperated. "None of you found it suspicious that Sara refused to step foot into this room? She probably didn't even call Tanner."

"Sara wouldn't do that!" Emily argued, a bit insulted at the insinuation. Of all people, she would know if Sara was sketchy. For god's sake, they shared a home for days, and a bed more than once. They even got tattoos together. You don't get tattoos with someone you dislike. That just doesn't happen.

Mona rolled her eyes. _Amateurs,_ she thought. _All of them._ No wonder she preferred to work alone. "Does the term Stockholm Syndrome ring any bells?"

"So Sara wants to go to Stockholm? That's why she's helping Wren?" Hanna wondered aloud, clearly confused.

Her friends, especially Mona and Spencer, shot her a glare that would have killed her had looks been deadly.

"Stockholm Syndrome is–" Spencer started, but was cut off by Mona, who offered a simpler, less time consuming explanation.

"She feels loyal to him."

"I still don't get it," the blonde admitted. "But whatever."

"They never understood how much I loved you," Wren mused, his eyes scanning the bronze-framed picture – picture of happier, simpler times, picture of joy, of childhood innocence that was now lost forever. "From the moment mom brought you home. I never left your side. You were like my very own living doll."

Tears welled up in his eyes at the memory.

"Playing with you meant the world to me. You were always mine. More than a sister. More than a friend. My possession, if you will."

He smiled.

"I never meant to hurt you, you know? I just wanted you to stop. But you wouldn't. You just wouldn't stop crying!"

Suddenly, anger overcame him. His breathing fastened, followed by his heartbeat, and his hands, so thin and delicate to the naked eye, balled into furious fists.

Ali backed away against the wall, her instincts telling her to run, hide, fight, but her body, scared of the person that was once her sweet, innocent brother, just stood frozen. Frozen in fear, anguish, desperation.

"I filled the tub and put you in the water, and you cried even more. I just wanted you to stop!" Wren snarled, as though that would justify his foolish, reckless actions.

He truly was, the girls realized, a sociopath.

"So I put your head down. And finally, you were getting quiet. It was wonderful." For a moment his expression bore a look of bliss, but then it shifted back to soul consuming anger. "Then dad came. And he… He took you, Ali. He took my doll. And he yelled." He put his leather-gloved hands over his temples. "He was so loud. And then mom came and it was a mess. I just wanted it to stop. But they didn't. They said I had to go away."

"You tried to kill me!" Alison exclaimed.

She knew it was dangerous to confront an unstable man, but she couldn't hold it in. Not anymore. She wanted to believe there was good in him, she really did, but hope was one thing, and reality something completely different. She was the popular high school it girl Ali D, not a miracle worker. The man she called her brother was dangerous. She couldn't blame their parents for locking him up.

"It was your fault! Why couldn't you just shut the hell up?!" Wren screamed.

"I was a baby!" she pointed out.

"You were _mine!"_

"He's sick," Aria commented. This wasn't the Wren Spencer told her about; sweet, caring Wren, the one too good to be dating the ungrateful bitch Melissa.

"Mom said she loved me. Like that's supposed to make everything better." Wren laughed at the memory. "I just wanted you to be my doll. And they left me in that place all alone like I was nothing. Like I wasn't their son."

"He… he said his dad was in the nuthouse," Hanna said, remembering a long forgotten conversation, back when she still considered him a friend, maybe even something more. An ally, perhaps. Everything but a cold blooded psychopath.

"He must've been talking about himself," Spencer said. "He had us all fooled."

"It wasn't your fault, Spence," Emily offered. "You didn't know."

"I should have known! I'm supposed to be the smart one!" the brainy brunette replied.

"You are. But you aren't perfect," Aria said. "Don't beat yourself up over it."

"All this time I thought he was a nice guy, only for him to turn out to be such a bitch," Hanna spat. She considered herself a rather good judge of character. Not even the Mona reveal had managed to shake her.

Though, after tonight this other, more rational side of her begged to differ.

Wren walked over to the bars, looking over the two still individuals, his brother and father, who looked more dead than alive. "They can hear us. They just can't move," he said, his gaze laying on his father. "You visited me once, when I was ten. And that was it. No phone calls. Not even a card. Are you sorry, daddy? I bet you are. I would be."

"That's what Wren did to me," Mona said, flashing back to that night, to the attack, the horrible pain as she just lay there, her insides screaming while her body just laid still, motionless. "My brain kept telling me to scream, but my body couldn't move. Jason and Mr. D are living a nightmare they can't wake up from."

"Oh, my god. Jason," Spencer whispered. Her brother had done nothing to deserve that. He was the one who wanted a relationship with Wren in the first place! He was completely innocent in this, in all of this.

"Mom came to visit me as often as she could," Wren spoke. "Aunt Carol came a couple times. But even with them there, I felt completely alone. They brought dolls. Mom said they were mine, every one of them. But they weren't you. They didn't even look like you. Not even close."

"That must've been awful," Alison said in mock sympathy.

Her brother shot her a sarcastic glare. "You think?"

He glanced at one of the mannequins and smiled like a school boy, that childhood innocent back for just a second.

"For my twelfth birthday mom bought me my first live-sized doll. That Christmas she got me this beautiful yellow dress." He patted the dress fitted upon the mannequin. "And after that every time she would buy you clothes, she would buy the same outfit for my doll. She looked amazing. Almost like you were twins."

He smiled at Ali, who raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Almost, Ali. She could never be like you. Don't be jealous."

"I–"

He cut her off. "It was around that time that I met her. Bethany," he clarified. "She was beautiful. A lot like you. She let me braid her hair and pick her clothes for the day. It was almost like I had my doll back. I got out when I turned eighteen. Aunt Carol was kind enough to let me stay at her place under the condition that I don't try to contact you. I was only allowed pictures of you. And you were beautiful. I was proud of my little doll, all grown up like that. It broke my heart that I couldn't see you. But I continued to visit Bethany, brought her gifts, clothes, all identical to yours. She was, in a way, my new sister. My second best doll. I figured, if I couldn't have you, I could at least have her. No one could take her from me."

Wren took a breath.

"But they tried. Bethany said it was an accident, but they still wanted to take her away. Away from me."

"What are you talking about?" Alison questioned.

"Marion Cavanaugh," he replied. "I begged mom to help her. I couldn't let them take my doll from me. Like they took you. Finally, mom agreed to pay off Wilden to make sure Marion's death was ruled a suicide."

"Oh, my god," Emily gasped. "He let Toby think his mother killed herself."

"All this time he thought she chose to leave him," Spencer murmured teary-eyed. "That changed him."

"Mrs. D sacrificed Toby for Charles," Hanna said.

"Now we know who taught A how to treat people like dolls," Aria commented.

"Mr. D abandoned him. Mrs. D taught Charles how to be A," Emily said.

"Or at least helped perfect the act," Hanna added.

"Between visiting Bethany and living at aunt Carol's, I went to college. I graduated at the top of my class. Mom was so proud," Wren beamed. "I was the first doctor in the family. Of course, I couldn't have anyone knowing I was still alive, since, you know, mom and aunt Carol arranged for me to be buried in the yard and all that. So I had to become someone else. Once again, mom turned to Wilden. Turns out cops have connections, and those connections happen to be very skilled when it comes to forging new identities. Faking an accent is easier than you think. You should try it. Everyone thought I was some foreigner. I think that made them respect me even more. This one time a friend of mine invited me to a party as his plus one. That's where I met Jason. I couldn't believe my luck And he… he didn't even recognize me. He was there with his girlfriend, CeCe Drake. Turned out she and my friend went to high school together. Small world, don't you think?"

"You know CeCe?"

"More than that," he admitted. "I find she's quite handsome in that red coat of hers. Your idea, she said."

"CeCe is red coat?" Aria said in surprise.

As if on cue, Alison said: "CeCe wouldn't betray me."

"Yet she did just that," Wren countered. "We're good friends, she and I. She found it quite fun messing with drugged up crazy Mona. It was supposed to be me, but you know how it goes, the paperwork, bureaucracy… I needed someone to be my eyes and ears until my volunteer work was approved, and who's better for the job than my brother's ex?"

He chuckled at the last sentence.

"It didn't take long for the drugs to turn Mona into my little faithful puppy. She told me all the secrets, all the lies, every little thing she knew about each and every one of your friends. And there was a _lot_ of dirt on those girls."

"But why? What did they ever do to you?" Alison questioned.

Wren glared at her. "It all goes back to that night."

"The night I ran away?"

He nodded. "The night Bethany died. Mom called in panic. She said that Bethany escaped from Radley, so I came to Rosewood to find her. Only, when I did find her, she was already dead. Your friends killed her."

"What?" Alison gasped.

"Mona, you okay?" Hanna asked, noticing her friend's tear-filled eyes.

"I killed Bethany," Mona said, finally turning to face Hanna and the rest of the girls. "I've been sending Ali threats. I didn't wanna hurt her. I just wanted to scare her. But that night so many people were mad at Alison. She was all alone in her yard and that shovel was right there and it all happened so fast."

"You hated Ali that much?" Emily asked. "Enough to kill her?"

Mona nodded. "When I hit her, all I could hear was Ali berating me, every awful thing she'd ever said to me all at once. But since Ali's alive… Bethany had blonde hair. She was dressed just like Alison. I killed an innocent person."

"Actually, it was Melissa," Hanna quipped in in an attempt to be helpful.

"Melissa just buried her," Spencer argued.

"Yeah, while she was still alive," the blonde pointed out.

"Guys, let's just focus on the story," Aria hushed them.

"They killed her. They took my doll from me," Wren said. "In a moment she was gone, just like you."

"It wasn't them," Alison said.

"Yes, it was. Who else could it have been? They were the only ones there."

"And what about me? Who hit me?"

"Bethany. She was angry. She thought you were stealing her life, that you stole my life. She wanted to make you pay."

"Weren't you angry?" Alison asked, playing on the sympathy card.

"I was, initially. But I couldn't stay mad at her forever. She was my doll. She was all I had left. So I convinced mom to help me once again."

"And she buried me just like that," the blonde stated, shocked.

"I was her son, too! She loved me!" Wren snarled. "She just wanted me to be happy. She couldn't do that to me again. She just couldn't." He took a few breaths to calm down. "As mom was burying you, I didn't notice Bethany wander off. I went searching for her. Next time I saw her, she was dead, and you seemed pretty much alive judging by the very open grave. You weren't there, Alison. It was then that I knew she didn't really kill you. But someone _did_ kill her. It was then that I swore vengeance."

"You did all that based on a hunch?"

"It had to have been them!"

"And what about me? You attacked me in my own living room!" Alison reminded him.

"You were gonna leave and I couldn't lose you again. I already lost one doll," Wren said softly, walking up to Alison and cupping her face like a parent would a child's. The girl froze at the monster's touch, but said nothing, did nothing, just stared into his icy eyes filled with so much hate. "I couldn't lose you after I just found you again. I'm not a bad person, Ali. I'm just sentimental. A collector, if you must."

"You almost froze Aria and Spencer to death!"

"Almost!" he pointed out. "I like Spencer. And I'm dating Melissa. I wouldn't kill my girlfriend's sister."

"You drove a car through Emily's house!"

"Yeah, and I almost cut her in half, too. But is she hurt? No. Is her mommy hurt? No. I only got mad when you didn't listen."

"You can't steal people from their families and lock them up and play with them like they're your toys," Alison tried to reason.

Wren turned to the camera. "Yes I can. And I did," he said, his eyes staring directly into girls', sending chills of anguish down their spines. "I know you won't believe me. But I love all of my dolls. Especially Spencer and Hanna. That's why you're still alive." He turned back to his sister. "I would never let anything really bad happen to them. It sucks to kill someone. Even when they deserve it."

"Are you talking about Wilden?" Alison asked.

"He found out you were alive. Wilden was never gonna let you come back and tell your story. CeCe practically jumped at the chance to get rid of him. She hated him since Cape May. But still, I had to make sure he was dead. So I sent Melissa to confirm it. And what do you know? The bastard really did kick the bucket." He turned back to the camera. "Sorry, Spencer. But not really."

"Oh, my god," Emily muttered.

Spencer gulped, her mouth forming a strict, thin line, her face rid of all emotion, blank as a sheet. Her sister; her beloved, sometimes annoying, sister was working with the enemy. She guessed it pretty much figured by now, but still, she had hope that somewhere deep down Melissa wasn't bad and had actually wanted to protect her.

You know what they say. Hope is a bitch.

"Spence, he's messing with you," Hanna tried. "He knows we're watching. He's still playing us."

"No. He's telling the truth," Spencer finally gave in. "We suspected her. It was right under our noses. Melissa… My sister is working with A."

"We have to get out of here," Emily said, walking over to where just moments ago was the door. Now it was a firm, thick wall, unbreakable, imprisoning. She started banging on it, but to no avail. They were trapped. There was no way out now.

"And what about Sara?" Alison asked.

"She was just replacement doll. A bad one at that. Still, I found a good use of her." Wren smirked. "I'm looking at you, Emily."

"Shut him up!" Hanna demanded.

"I can't!" Mona said. Or maybe she could. She just wanted to hear the story until the very end.

And that she did.

* * *

 **There. Done.**

 **I know it doesn't make much sense. Well, neither does the official reveal, and that is an actual, scripted, acted, filmed episode.**

 **Thank you very much for the reading, reviewing, and favoriting!**


	2. I Believe I Can Fly

**Wow, such amazing support! I love each and every one of you who read, reviewed, followed, and/or added it to their favorites.**

 **This chapter is made due to popular demand. By the way, I apologize if my English slips sometimes. It's not my native language. Feel free to correct me.**

 **Here are some flashback that (hopefully) make some sense, and the reveal end.**

* * *

It really was the summer of her life. Even the ever wild girl Alison DiLaurentis had to admit that.

She was particularly smitten with that newbie cop, tall, snarky, and handsome Darren Wilden whom Jason and CeCe had introduced her to. He might have been a little too old for her – okay, a lot, but since when does queen bee Ali D care about such details? – but that didn't stop them from having fun.

"No strings attached," Alison reminded him one last time. They'd snuck out the back door and went for a walk on the beach. The night was beautiful; air bore the pleasant aroma of sea, so warm and gentle, and the moon was full, so very beautiful on the cloudless night sky.

Jason and CeCe were too busy with each other to notice Alison sneaking out with the cop neither of them completely trusted despite their so called friendship. They were making out in the corner, amidst the noise that was the party they were lucky to be invited to.

Alison might have been a party girl, but she was a true adventure seeker at heart, her quest hot, delicious boy toys in close proximity.

Wilden fit the part to a T.

"I know you want to kiss me," Alison said, stopping dead in her tracks, her delicate hand slipping into Wilden's, entwining their fingers.

"I want to do more than just that," he admitted, prompting her to snort in that usual Ali D style, so freaking annoying, but cute and desirable nonetheless.

"Why do you think I took us out here?" she asked. Certainly not for beach walks and hand holding and all the other romantic bullshit. She was a peculiar girl of many tastes, with one constant thing in mind – boys. They were her treasure, her precious toys. No matter who and how old they were, and what they thought about it.

If they were hot, they were hers.

"Let's get to it, then," Wilden whispered. "Before they notice we're missing."

Alison smirked. He was right; the sooner they did it, the better. It would be disastrous if someone was to walk in and ruin the party.

It was time for her and her beach hottie to have some much needed fun.

* * *

It happened a few more times before he'd finally had enough. And he wouldn't have been named Darren Wilden if he'd been gentle about it.

"What do you mean, that's it?!" Alison shrieked. How dare he refuse her? _Her,_ the school queen, the hot babe, the wet dream of every straight guy and lesbian girl? _How dare he?_

"I mean, we're done," Wilden repeated, getting aggravated.

"You can't do that!"

He shot her a mocking glare. "Really?"

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" Alison demanded. No one ever said no to her. That just didn't happen. She was too good for that.

Didn't he realize she could crush him if she wanted to? She wasn't the school's most popular mean girl for nothing.

Now that pissed him off. He walked up to her, his jaw clenched, body tensed up, and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her. "Do _you_ have any idea who _you're_ talking to?" he countered. "I know you're used to getting everything you want, _little girl,_ but this time you lose. This isn't high school, Alison. I'm older than you. I'm smarter than you. I'm a freaking cop! You do _not_ want to mess with me!"

Frightened, Alison gulped, unwelcome tears welling up in her eyes. She underestimated him. Big time. She should have known this wouldn't be easy.

He was right – this wasn't high school. She had no power over him.

But maybe…

"You leave and I tell," she threatened.

Wilden narrowed his eyes at her. "One word and I'll make you disappear. That is a promise." Pushing her away so hard that she nearly lost her balance, he turned on his heel and left.

Leaving her crying, hurt, and broken.

And, most important of all, powerless.

* * *

 _Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid._ She never should have gotten involved with him. Everyone told her he was bad news. Hell, even Jason and CeCe, and they were his freaking friends!

What had she gotten herself into?

She observed the shack party from the safe distance, broken and defeated, her arms protectively hugging her stomach. _This isn't happening,_ she kept telling herself. _It's just a dream._

But it wasn't. And she needed help. She couldn't deal with it alone.

CeCe walked over to her the moment she saw her, something in her gut telling her there was something seriously wrong with her friend. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I needed to talk to you," Alison said in a very un-Alison like tone. She sounded as if she spent the whole day crying.

"What's wrong?" CeCe asked, alarmed.

"I think I'm in trouble," Alison said. It felt terrible, admitting weakness like that. She was by no means a weak girl.

She was strong, and beautiful, and confident. A proud bully.

And now she'd resorted to asking for help.

How the mighty have fallen. It would have been funny if it wasn't tragic.

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes filled with tears she'd barely held back. It took all her willpower not to fall apart right there and then. "I'm late," she admitted, the heavy words falling easily from her lips. She had to admit it felt good to tell someone, but still… She'd rather she'd kept it to herself.

CeCe's eyes widened in shock. "Like…?"

Alison nodded. "Yeah."

"You mean, you weren't using protection?"

"We were," she fired. "Just not all the time."

CeCe sighed. How could that girl be such an idiot? For a self-proclaimed smart girl, she sure was stupid. "Okay," she finally said, "how late are you?"

"Two weeks," Alison replied, her voice breaking.

"Have you ever been late before?"

She shook her head. "What am I gonna do?"

"Have you told _him?"_ CeCe inquired.

The younger girl furiously shook her head. No way was that happening. "I can't," she said, remembering the last time they've seen each other, their bitter farewell of broken hearts and damaged egos. "If he finds out, he's gonna kill me."

CeCe sighed in defeat. Whoever that boy was, he was a class A jerkass. "Okay, listen. I know a doctor who can help," she offered.

"But my parents–" Alison panicked.

"He won't tell them."

"Not even Jason?"

The older blonde shook her head. "Not even Jason."

* * *

Alison had to admit the doctor CeCe introduced her to was cute. And hot. And so deliciously handsome.

And he had a British accent to die for.

"You're not pregnant," Wren said.

She let out a breath of relief, her hand strengthening the hold on CeCe's. "Are you sure?"

The good doctor nodded. "One hundred percent."

CeCe smirked, raising a teasing eyebrow. "Told you he's a pro."

Alison smiled. _Thank god,_ she thought. She really dodged a bullet there.

"I can put you on the pill, if you want," Wren said with a smile. "Just in case."

"That won't be necessary," Alison said. "But thanks. You really helped me here."

Wren's pearly white smile widened. _Everything for my dolly dearest._ "You're welcome."

* * *

Finally, the girl's made Mona get them out of that room. Running wild, they headed straight to Radley, Charles' current whereabouts, Alison's prison, ready to end it once and for all.

"Ali! Ali!" they shouted, desperately hoping their callings would reach their friend. "Ali, where–"

They froze on their spots, their eyes glued onto two slim figures: one wore a prom dress, and the other was dressed in black from head to toe.

Charles' little A team.

The two figures turned to face them

"Get out of here!" Sara barked. "All of you. Now!"

"Why, Melissa?" Spencer inquired. She couldn't mask the disappointment in her tone. Sure, the two sisters didn't have the best of relationships, but this? This was pushing it.

"Why not?" Melissa countered.

"You were always mom and dad's favorite."

"You think this is about mom and dad?" The older Hastings rolled her eyes. "God, Spencer, how shallow can you be?"

"Then what is it about?" Spencer demanded. She needed to know. She needed at least something in this whole wide mess to make sense.

Though she knew it never would. Crazy isn't known for its logic.

"You," Melissa replied, her voice full of venomous, pure hatred. "It's about you and your band of lying little bitches thinking you can have everything you want. You ruin everything you touch. You deserve everything that's happened to you."

"That's real sisterly of you," Hanna deadpanned.

"Shut up, Hanna," Emily and Aria muttered.

The blonde sighed. "Just saying."

"You always took what was mine, Spencer."

Spencer frowned. "Are you talking about Wren?"

She couldn't believe it. All this over one man she didn't even want?

"I'm talking about _everything,"_ Melissa corrected. "It's always you. You, you, you."

All of a sudden Alison ran in, her expression pained, frantic. "He's headed to the roof!" she exclaimed. "Please, help me!"

Sara was about to run over to her when Emily pulled her back. "Hey!"

"I tried to keep you safe!" the short-haired girl tried, as if that explained everything, as if that made all this mess, all the torture she and her little band of helpers put the girls through any better.

Yeah, Emily wasn't buying that. She smacked Sara straight in the face, knocking her down, letting her land in the land of dreams. _That's for my water bill, bitch,_ she thought, the corner of her lips curling into a barely visible smirk. Hanna would be so proud of her for that remark.

Melissa, on the other hand, ran in the other direction. Spencer was about to go after her, but Hanna grabbed her hand. "Leave her be. She can't get too far," she said.

The six girls headed for the roof, their overly large dresses and ridiculously high heels making it hard for them to run faster than the speed of a snail. Still, somehow they made it, all in one piece.

Wren stood on the very edge, his arms spread wide, his eyes glued to the cold, hard road directly underneath him. He was surrounded by police, he realized. It was either death or capture.

The game had to go on either way. He didn't come this far only to give up at the very last minute.

"NO!" she girls shouted in unison, more for their friend than the monster underneath the mask. It if was up to them, they'd push the bastard themselves.

"Wren, please don't do this," Alison begged. "You helped me! Remember that summer? You were so nice to me. I know there's good in you. Please, just let me help you!"

"Game over," Wren said.

And then he jumped.

And landed straight on the rescue cushion the firefighters had set up.

* * *

 **I needed to add some hilarity and ridiculousness. Don't be mad, please.**

 **So this is it. The end.**


End file.
